FADED ROSE
A cold winter breeze blows
in a chilly November's night--
cloudy, sad looking.
It matches my mood
as tears fight to fall.
I sit wondering
of a twist of fate
forever questioning.
Oh well, I'm here
waiting, thinking,
reflecting on a life
I barely knew.
So full of life. . .
. . . eagle scout. . .
. . . band member. . .
. . . honor student. . . .
Snatches of conversations
filling in the pieces
that I don't know.
Memories.
I met him a
couple of times,
and I liked
what I saw.
That zest for life
that shown in his eyes,
that prankful zeal
sparkling in his being
And under it all
I sensed a great caring
hidden from view
perhaps or perhaps not.
I didn't know him well enough
to say for sure.
But he treated me well
giving a friendly smile.
This poem perhaps
is a small thing--
my thoughts, my feelings.
I grieve with you,
and you'll be in my prayers.
In memory: CHRISTOPHER ROBERT SCHELLHASE
July 16, 1977 - November 11, 1995
RETURN TO FADED GLORY
